The tale of Else Underhill (title to be improved)
by Chameleonesque
Summary: This story centers around a fictional character, Else Underhill the hobbit, and is about what the story would be like if a girl, a hobbit girl at that, was part of the Fellowship.


The sun was high in the warm afternoon sky, bathing all residents of the Shire in golden warmth. The grass and weeping willows and tiny flowers that lined the dusty gravel road seemed to visibly grow, reaching toward the great ball of warmth, their source of life. Twisted green vines crawled the front walls of the tiny houses, as the other three walls were firmly embedded into vibrant hills.  
I strolled along the gravel road, whistling nothing in particular. My bare feet kicked up clouds of brown dust which lightly coated my skin and stayed there to bake in the sun until they caked off when I brushed my fingertips across my face. I passed my neighbor Edwine Maggot working rather crossly in his garden, on his knees in the dirt and furiously jerking up weeds, muttering to himself all the while. I nearly stopped to cheer him up and say hello, but my green eyes spotted something much more interesting far ahead of me on the path: a wooden cart pulled by two ponies, just cresting the hill. It was directed by a tall man with a pointed hat that covered a mass of flyaway grey hair.  
I shrieked in excitement, and took off towards him as fast as my bare hobbit feet would take me.  
The man, upon hearing his name, turned his head quickly to glimpse his caller, but turned his head back just as quickly when he saw me running wildly toward him. He did not whistle his ponies on, nor did he slow down in any way; he continued to ride as he was, with no indication that he had even heard me, excepting the mischievous smile playing upon his lips.  
I ran harder, and could scarcely even see him through the cloud of yellow dust generated by my pounding feet. The cart, luckily, was not moving overly fast, and I caught up to him in less than a minute. I grabbed the moving wooden frame and, in one heaving motion, pitched myself into the cart. The back was filled with fireworks, but I paid the explosives no mind and crawled over the top of the pile as if it were no more than my father's crop of corn. I did not, after all, have a history of outstanding fear in most situations I came across, or as I was always quick to defend myself, came across me. This phenomenon increased exponentially if I happened to be in the company of my best friend Frodo Baggins.  
Using the back of Gandalf's chair for support, I jumped over the divider and plopped down next to him, wincing only slightly as my bottom crashed against the wooden seat. He turned to face me, innocent surprise painted in his merry eyes. Why Else, how kind of you to drop in.  
I turned to face him, one hand placed awkwardly at my hip. That was not a very nice thing to do! I spoke sternly, eyes glaring ferociously, but my dissemblance of anger melted away one moment later and I threw my arms around him in a tight hug. I should be very angry right now if I wasn't so glad to see you!  
A small throat-clearing noise echoed on my other side and I turned in surprise. Oh hullo Frodo! I cried, flinging my arm in turn around him. I didn't even see you there!  
He smiled slightly. I noticed.  
I took one arm back, but left the other loosely around his shoulder in friendly comfort. Oh, come on. I grinned. I see you every day! We haven't seen Gandalf in over a year!  
I pushed my wild brown curls out of my eyes with my free hand and turned back to face the elderly wizard. So, have you begun yet on the news of everything that has been happening in the outside while you were gone?  
He raised his bushy eyebrows. You mean the exact same news that Frodo demanded one minute ago?  
I nodded hurriedly and waved my hand. Yes yes, that news. You must start over.  
Gandalf looked from one hobbit to the other and shook his head tiredly. Two of them, he muttered to himself. Far too inquisitive. Very unnatural.  
Well perhaps, suggested Frodo, if there are two of us, we're not so very unnatural after all.  
Gandalf blinked at this, then shrugged and continued with his news of until his steady voice was interrupted by his own His ponies halted abruptly in front of a house whose wooden mailbox read in bright colors, Bag End. Gandalf turned to Frodo, leaning forward slightly.  
I need to pay a visit to your Uncle Bilbo. You two run along. I'll finish my stories later.  
We jumped out of the cart and landed firmly in the spongy grass. Gandalf laughed and shook his head, then made a shooing motion with his hand. Off you go.  
We began walking down the path, deeper into the Shire. I can't believe he's actually here! Frodo grinned in excitement, and I returned the smile with equal giddiness.  
I know! I can't wait to see what he has planned for Bilbo's birthday party tomorrow.  
Frodo's eyes darkened slightly. I can't wait to see what _Bilbo _has planned for his birthday party. He's up to something, Else. I know he is.  
My dark curls bobbed knowingly. I know... he's been acting weird lately. I mean, even weird for _him._ Always bustling about and muttering to himself.  
Frodo shrugged. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Still, I can't help but wonder what he could have planned.


End file.
